


The Waters Embrace

by sonicsora



Category: Brütal Legend
Genre: Death, Depression, Drowning, Drowning Doom - Freeform, Gen, Goddesses, Ironheade, Mid-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: Wouldn't it be easier to just sink? Wouldn't it be easier to give into Aetulia's sorrow? Kill Master has to ask himself this when he falls into the waters embrace.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Waters Embrace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callmedok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmedok/gifts).



> Something short, something bitter, but it's here. Thanks to Owl for the idea!

He sinks. 

He sinks willingly, head tipped back as the cold all but soaks through the fabric of his clothing. As his hair splays out behind him on the water’s surface, as he feels the chill curl up along his spine. He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as he sinks. He can see his hat bobbling across the water’s surface as he sinks further and further downwards. 

What feels like a hand drifts across the small of his back, plucking at the fabric of his clothing as he loses focus of the surface of the water overhead. Everything is dark, everything is a flowing current pushing him deeper. The once stagnant waters are flush with activity, the push and pull of death overtaking life. 

If he opened his mouth, he's, sure enough, he'd suck in whats left of bodies that had fallen in before him. Ghosts of fallen warriors that turned into nothing in the sea's hungry embrace. Slit and dirt were what was left of the first rebellion. Bones buried under stagnant stained waters. 

But he feels her weight against his back, her chin tucked against his shoulder. There is no breath to tickle the shell of his ear, only a few errant bubbles that float up and away. His gaze follows the bubbles before focusing on the darkness of the water around them. 

Aetulia’s voice is cool and sharp against the inside of his head. Her fingertips are cold against his side, a deeper chill than even the water around them. It feels like ice has been packed tightly against his back and is cutting through him. Her chill cuts into his core, deep into what is left of him. 

What was there to begin with? 

What was there even beyond the title of Kill Master? Meaningless in the shadow of the sea, meaningless when he lets himself _think_

oƃ ʇǝl oʇ ǝɯᴉʇ s,ʇᴉ 'ʇsǝɹɐǝp ɥO

It would be so easy to forget who Lem was, and become the sea. Now wouldn’t it? He would never have to worry again, never feel the pull of want. He wouldn't have to carry the title of Kill Master, he could just let _go_.

˙ʇsǝɹɐǝp 'ʍou sn ʎluo s,ʇI

Her voice rings clearly in his head, songbirds, the rattling of an engine, the chords of a bass all woven together. The softness of a promise woven with the dread of death hanging over him. Her cheek presses against his shoulder, her laugh is sweet and acidic as it bubbles right against his skull.

¿ǝɯ ɥʇᴉʍ ʇsǝɹ noʎ ʇ,uoM


End file.
